Enchantment
by Aquaberry Salamander
Summary: Regency Era AU. Prompt: Lord Weasley introduces himself to Miss Granger, while his sister Lady Weasley eyes a potential suitor across the ballroom. Random pairings, some slightly OOC behaviour, and rated M for naughty situations in later chapters.
1. Hermione Granger Prepares For A Party

Written in response to a prompt by lady snark: _Lord Weasley introduces himself to Miss Granger, while his sister Lady Weasley eyes a potential suitor across the ballroom._ (There is some wonderful art attached to the prompt: pragmatique. tumblr. com post/3176809741/ regency-era-request-ron-hermione-lord-weasley)

Genre/Tags: AU, Regency Era, Drama/Romance, Romione

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Hermione Granger Prepares for a Party<strong>

_**Bath Floo Network Station, Somerset, April 1813**_

Hermione Granger anxiously adjusted her dress for what seemed to be the fiftieth time that afternoon. The dress was far more costly than any she was accustomed to wearing previously, a periwinkle silk ball gown with a nipped-in empire waist and a long, straight skirt. Her brown hair was softly coiled atop her head, its riotous russet curls tamed into a semblance of elegance. She wore no jewellery, but the cluster of crimson rose buds that her dear friend Ginny Weasley had insisted she wear were artfully woven into her hair. Her make-up was minimal, with only the faintest blush on her cheeks and tint to her lips.

The Lovegood's Sun Ball was to open the season, the first that Hermione had ever participated in since her rather low-key debut in Muggle London in August of last year. Hermione, ever practical, had not wanted to participate in the ritual, and longed for the simplicity of her books and studies. However, the Grangers had been most insistent, stating that as she had reached twenty-one years of age it was time for her to make a formal entrance to society and seek a husband.

Upon hearing that she was officially out at long last, Ginny had insisted that she join the Weasley family in attending the Lovegood's soiree that would open the Season for the magical community. Lovegood was a noted eccentric, famed for his excellent parties – which were mainly the province of the patient and gracious Mrs Lovegood. Strangely the ball was to be held at their Somerset estate, in contrast to the usual Season events, which were the province of the city.

Hermione had travelled via the Floo network to the Bath station, and then attended the carriages – discreetly enchanted so as to appear perfectly ordinary by Muggle standards once leaving the station - prepared by the Lovegood family to transport their guests out to the estate. Ginny had told her that she would meet her at the Bath station. The evening air was cooling quickly, so Hermione cast a quick warming charm.

The carriages were fabulously rococo in design, pulled by massive Abraxan steeds. The winged horses must have been magically directed to travel to the estate, as there were no drivers. Ginny must be running slightly late, Hermione thought, not spying any other travelers at the station. Ginny's delay gave her ample opportunity to inspect the carriage. The exterior was painted a deep midnight blue, with gilt accents on the swirling designs adorning the carriage sides.

The carriage door opened of its own accord, wooden steps forming a pathway to enter the carriage. The steed calmly regarded her, seeming to hint that she should enter. Hermione smiled and shook her head slightly, refusing to enter until Ginny appeared.

As though the horse had summoned her, a rush of warm air and green fire from the fireplace announced the arrival of Lady Ginevra Weasley. Hermione regarded her friend warmly. Ginny was dressed in a rose-coloured silk gown, ostensibly quite similar to Hermione's own, with her vibrantly red hair drawn into an elegant knot at the base of her neck. She had gone for a slightly more dramatic appearance, with her warm brown eyes lined in dark, shadowy eyeliner and her dark russet lashes dusted with kohl. She simply sparkled, and bore a faint scent of lavender and citrus.

"Hermione!" Ginny greeted her. "How are you? My apologies for being so late, however I was unfortunately delayed by my foolish brothers. I swear, if it wasn't for Mother and I, they would scarcely remember to place their shoes on the proper foot."

Hermione smiled. "There is no need to apologise, for I only just arrived myself. Come, let us be on our way." The two ladies climbed the wooden steps and entered the blue carriage.

The interior contained two plush bench seats, covered in black jacquard fabric, with garlands of orchids in riotous bloom seemingly growing from the roof in the centre of the room. The flowers appeared almost luminous, casting a soft glow upon the carriage's interior. Upon closer inspection, Hermione noted small, live, faeries capering amongst the bluebell and ivory coloured blossoms.

She settled on the rearmost bench, watching the faeries intently. Ginny seated herself opposite, and at once, the door closed. The Abraxan began to pull the carriage onward to the Lovegood's.

After cataloguing the remarkable carvings – the story of the water nymph Melusine, if Hermione was not mistaken – on the carriage's interior roof, she opened one of the carriage windows to see the countryside whilst Ginny finalised her toilette. Deep green forest seemingly designed to be populated with fanciful historical figures such as Robin Hood or the Arthurian knights of old rolled by at a steady pace. The chill evening air was creeping in rapidly however, and she closed off the world outdoors.

"What must I anticipate this evening?" Hermione enquired. "I have heard that the Lovegoods are rather eccentric."

Ginny laughed. "I daresay you have. The Lovegoods are an old family, quite popular in the publishing world, famed for their exploits abroad. Lord and Lady Lovegood themselves undertook an expedition to the Orient some years ago. I came to know their daughter, Luna – you would not have met her previously, as she attended Hogwarts – as our families socialised growing up. She is a lovely person, whom I am quite sure you will like."

"I would be glad to meet such people! I would dearly love the opportunity to learn more of what lies in the world beyond our borders. However, I must confess, outside of school I have not attended many wizarding society events. I hope I do not commit any social _faux pas_."

"You have nothing to worry about. Simply act as you would during one of the balls at Beauxbatons, and everyone will find you perfectly charming_._"

Ginny's kind words of reassurance soothed Hermione's nerves. As the carriage neared its destination, she reflected on her reasons for attending this party. Her curiosity had been piqued at the opportunity to meet Ginny's large and colourful family. Attending Beauxbatons School of Magic with Ginny, the frequent missives and tales from Ginny's had depicted a jovial and gregarious home life, far away from their mannered and impossibly French boarding school. Ginny, a year younger, had attended the year below Hermione. They had become acquainted when Hermione was assigned to be her 'house sister', her mentor and guide during her first year. A firm friendship had formed that had lasted through their seven years of schooling, to graduation and beyond. She would be glad to meet the Weasley family at last and of course Ginny's fiancé, Mr Harry Potter. Even at Beauxbatons they had heard of his exploits. Ginny had nursed an ardent admiration for him throughout their school years. It struck Hermione as decidedly peculiar that she had been so silent on the subject of their engagement.

"I am quite excited to be meeting your family at last. And your fiancé! I cannot believe that you have been betrothed these last six months and failed to tell me."

"I am sorry, it was just… sudden. I confess, I am still coming to terms with it myself."

"I would have thought you would be overjoyed at such an arrangement, given the passion you cherished for Lord Potter back in our school days."

Ginny's mouth twisted slightly. "That was then… Harry is handsome, kind, and a dear friend of my elder brother Ronald. However, that was a young girl's infatuation. I am most anxious at the prospect of marrying someone I scarcely know. How can I love a stranger?"

Hermione nodded, thankful that her Muggle parents were progressive enough to believe that their only daughter should marry for love rather than societal connections. "Perhaps you could discuss your concerns with your parents?"

"I have, at length. They wish me to marry a stable, secure man, and believe that Harry is that man. Furthermore, they signed a betrothal contract with the Potters prior to Harry's enrolment with Hogwarts. Neither they nor the Potters wish to break it. I am somewhat at a loss as to how to proceed without provoking my mother's temper more than I already have."

"That is outrageous! They cannot marry you against your will!"

"They unfortunately can. You understand why I have been less than enthused about sharing this news. I will perhaps learn to love Harry. He shares my trepidation, I am sure, but he has been nothing but a gentleman in our meetings." Ginny sighed. "At least I can enjoy this season as a free woman."

Hermione leaned forward, laying her hand on Ginny's in a gesture of support. "You shall. And I am confident, we can find a way out of this. I will consult with my colleagues at the Ministry. There must be a way." Ginny simply nodded.

At last the pace of the carriage slowed, coming to a halt. Troubled by Ginny's revelation, Hermione hastily rearranged her features into an appropriate expression. The carriage door opened to reveal a man with dishevelled, shoulder length blonde hair, wearing a shockingly yellow great coat, who bowed before her, a chain with a curious symbol dangling forth as he did so.

"Welcome, Lady Weasley and Miss Granger, to the Sun Ball. I am Xenophilius Lovegood, and I would be delighted to escort you inside."

"Thank you sir, for your invitation," Hermione replied. "I am certain this will be a splendid evening."

Ginny nodded, and added, "Good evening again, Mr Lovegood. My parents wish to pass on their apologies for their inability to attend this evening. They are visiting my eldest brother in Egypt, otherwise they would indeed be present. My other brothers shall be in attendance shortly."

"Splendid! Lord and Lady Weasley shall have a fascinating time in Egypt. The sun is at its most auspicious in the desert! Please, follow me, and I shall take you through to Luna."

As they entered the mansion, Mr Lovegood peppered his conversation with snippets of information regarding fantastical and frankly, in Hermione's estimation, absurd creatures and plants. Whilst there was a growing interest in the cryptozoology profession, she could simply not accept the idea of 'nargles' fluttering about everyone's heads. And the crumple-horned snorkack that Lord Lovegood spoke of was clearly an erumpent!

Ginny smiled slyly at Hermione, noting her friend bristling with the urge to correct their host's extravagant claims. However, their training at Beauxbaton's had instilled both ladies with a sense of public decorum and conduct. Still, Ginny had no doubt that if an opportunity presented itself later in the ball, Hermione would attempt to debunk the existence of such nonsensical creatures with relish.

It was with a sigh of relief that Hermione and Ginny were presented to Lady Pandora Lovegood, and their daughter Luna. Luna and Ginny exclaimed greetings upon seeing each other. The two hastily drew Hermione aside.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Luna stated lightly. "Please, have some champagne." Hermione accepted a flute from one of the house-elves winding through the crowd, trays borne aloft. The sparkling drink's bubbles tickled lightly at her nose. The bubbly vintage was excellent, crisp and refreshing. _Perhaps this will be a pleasant evening after all_, Hermione thought. _Let the ball begin!_

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><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

Thanks for reading! :) This is my first Harry Potter themed fanfic, and I would greatly appreciate constructive criticism and feedback.

**Bath, Somerset:** The Somerset region in the United Kingdom is a very old region, with the town of Bath in particular dating back to Roman times. It is a beautiful area with marvellous old-world architecture, and is listed as a World Heritage Site. Before, during, and after the Regency Era, it was something of a 'party town', popular with Londoners escaping the inner city.

**Lovegoods:** In J.K. Rowling's recent Christmas releases on Pottermore, she confirmed that Luna's mother's first name is Pandora.

**Melusine:** The myth of the Melusine is a part of European medieval folklore, of a mermaid or water nymph who married a land-dweller. I would assume that it would be a subject taught to Beauxbatons students as a part of European magical creature lore.


	2. Meetings

**Chapter 2: Meetings**

Thanks for reading, and many thanks to my anonymous reviewer! Your comments are greatly appreciated. :)

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><p><em><strong>Lovegood Estate, Sun Ballroom, Somerset, November 1813<strong>_

Lord Ronald Bilius Weasley stood idly against a wall, half concealed by a potted palm, in the Lovegood's rather ostentatious ballroom. His purpose in attempting to conceal his great height and shock of red hair behind the stand of green plants was, he thought ruefully, not the most gentlemanly of ones. He lurked out of sight in an effort to ward off his rather over-enthusiastic dance partner and would-be paramour, the lovely Miss Lavender Brown. Thus far, he had successfully avoided dancing with Miss Brown, in spite of her requests, by offering some hasty greetings to Lord and Lady Lovegood and Miss Luna, then spying a decent place for hiding. It had worked quite well, until he was startled by a not-so-subtle punch to his shoulder. Spinning around, he saw his best friend, Harry Potter, surveying him with a knowing grin and raised eyebrows.

"You can't hide here forever, mate," Harry told him. "She will discover you before too long."

"Merlin, Harry, don't draw attention to me!" Ron hissed in an urgent whisper. Harry hurriedly ducked behind the palm fronds to join his friend.

The two made an amusing, but handsome, tableau. Ron wore a deep maroon coloured waistcoat over a pressed white shirt and cravat, with old-fashioned dark breeches tucked into his highly polished boots. Harry was dressed in a slightly more modern ensemble in the latest Muggle fashion from London, wearing a forest green great coat over dark brown, impeccably tailored trousers, with matching silk cravat tied intricately.

Harry regarded his friend. "Maybe I can join you here for a while. We can dodge our respective ladies together. You are going to have to give Lavender a dance at some point this evening, however, I fear."

Ron groaned inwardly. Lavender was pretty, and she was not interested in status. As the sixth son of a noble pureblood family whose fortune had dwindled over the years, he was quite aware thanks to his mother's frequent lectures that he was not a catch for any young witch of good family. This mattered not a jot to Lavender, who had chased Ron rather brazenly throughout their years at Hogwarts. Ron's mother and father had strongly encouraged the match, fearing that he would take the same path as his brother Charles, who had rejected marriage in favour of a bachelor lifestyle, disappearing into the wilds of Romania chasing dragons.

Lavender did not truly interest him, though, and he feared he did not interest her, either. Lavender, Ron suspected, saw him merely as a challenge. He and Harry had been the only males in their year in Gryffindor House to not fall before her charms. Harry had been distracted by his infatuation with Miss Cho Chang, of Ravenclaw House, but Ron had had no such pretext for resisting her advances. This had caused her momentary intrigue to flare into a lasting interest, undiminished in the years since they had departed from Hogwarts.

It _was_ rather ungallant of him to lurk behind the shrubbery, he supposed.

"I'm a bit worried about Mother and Father," he confessed to Harry in a low tone. "Mother in particular is watching for any signs that Lavender and I are growing fond of one another. They've been hinting that if I don't formally begin courting Lavender, they'll take steps for me, the way they did with –" he abruptly cut himself off.

"It's all right, Ron," Harry replied with a heavy sigh. "The way they did with Ginny and I. She is still… dissatisfied with our engagement, I fear."

"Ginny has never liked being locked into a cage. Mum did wrong by her, and she needs to realise it. She has always liked you, though. Give her time, and she will come around."

Harry made a noncommittal noise, his expression carefully neutral. "Perhaps. Shall we go and greet our ladies?"

_Great Gryffindor's ghost, together we've hunted some of the darkest creatures known to wizard kind, _Ron thought._ It's rather shameful to be this alarmed by a dance. _

"…Let us go," he replied at last, summoning his courage. Ron stepped out from behind the palms, straightening his cravat whilst Harry attempted to tame his black hair into a semblance of tidiness. It did not take long surveying the room to spy Lavender's pale blonde head, similarly scanning the room. At last she locked eyes with Ron, and smiled. She was standing with Ron's sister, Ginevra, and a witch whose face Ron could not see. Ginny and the witch were engrossed in a rather peculiar tapestry strung across the wall. It depicted one of the strangest creatures Ron had ever set eyes upon – a monstrous hairy five-legged beast, with reddish brown fur and each leg terminating in a clubbed foot. The two ladies seemed to be rather intently discussing the snarling creature, whilst Lavender waited for them to approach.

Nodding to Harry, the two made their way across the room to the ladies. Harry bowed low over Ginny's hand, lifting it to his lips for a chaste kiss. "My lady, how fare you this evening?" he greeted her.

Ginny favoured him with a brittle smile. "I am fine, Mr Potter." _Once, _Ron thought,_ that attention from Harry would have almost made her faint for excitement. _

As Harry and Ginny exchanged greetings, Ron gave a half-bow to Lavender. "Miss Brown, my apologies. Please forgive me for being indisposed during the dance."

Lavender smiled mysteriously. It was a smile that said she knew he was not one bit sorry for dashing off before their cotillion. "I am well, my lord. Perhaps we can partake in the next waltz?"

Ginny interjected, sparing Ron from having to respond to Lavender's rather brazen request. "Oh, Hermione!" She tapped the brown-haired witch on the shoulder, startling her away from the tapestry she had been so intently studying. "I am sorry, I am being incredibly rude… may I introduce Mr Harry Potter and my brother Ronald Weasley? Mr Potter, Ron, this is Miss Hermione Granger."

Harry was confidently offering a cordial greeting, but Ron found himself momentarily dumbfounded. Miss Hermione Granger was bloody _beautiful._ Copper-brown hair shining, pale skin, full, rose-coloured lips, deep chocolate brown eyes… A slender body with tempting cleavage pushed into prominence by that periwinkle gown… She was not pretty in the manner of someone like Lavender, with her golden blonde hair and pale blue eyes, she was striking in a wholly different manner. She bore a faint scent of flowers – roses – that must have come from the blossoms twined within her dark brown curls.

She coloured slightly under his intense regard, but murmured an appropriately polite greeting that Ron completely failed to catch.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Granger," he responded at last with a polite half-bow. "Are you a former Hogwarts student?"

"I attended Beauxbatons Academy with your sister, sir," Hermione replied. "However, my graduate study was undertaken with Professor Binns, so I am familiar with Hogwarts. It is a remarkable educational institution."

"Professor Binns?" Harry enquired. "You must have a strong dedication to wizarding law, madam," he added with a smile.

"Indeed," Hermione replied, returning his smile with one of her own. "Professor Binns possesses one of the sharpest legal minds in Europe. It was a privilege to study under him, and I would paramount enjoy the opportunity to pursue employment in that field."

_Sharpest legal minds in Europe… her mind must be pretty bloody sharp too,_ Ron thought, remembering his and Harry's time studying under Binns at Hogwarts. Professor Cuthbert Binns had achieved the dubious honour of having an entire class of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs fall asleep during one of his infamous lectures on the International Warlock's Convention of 1289 due to sheer boredom. He knew his history – no question about that – but Ron had grown to dread his classes with the old ghostly teacher even more than his and Harry's lessons with the severe Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape. It had only been due to his fierce desire to entire the forthcoming Auror program being implemented by the Wizarding Council that had forced Ron to undertake the NEWT level History of Magic qualification.

Lavender at this point was growing rather indignant at Ron's evident fascination with the brown-haired witch. She gently and politely forced Ron's attention back to her, and led him to the dance floor. His eyes remained on the enigmatic, scholarly young witch chatting so animatedly with his sister and Harry, long after he and Lavender had entered the dance.

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><p>"That is Ronald?" Hermione rounded on Ginny. "He is… rather different from your descriptions."<p>

"You truly think so?"

Harry returned, bearing a small silver tray of delicately arranged sweet treats and crystal glasses filled with a refreshing punch smelling of oranges and almonds._ Ever the gentleman_, Ginny thought. If only she could bring herself to feel for Harry what she felt for… him.

Blaise Zabini stood across at the opposite side of the room, watchful and unsmiling. Oh, Ginny knew that many thought Blaise sombre and cold, a Slytherin to the very core. Ginny herself had thought as much throughout their years together at Hogwarts. It had taken a rather explosive argument at the annual Quidditch match closing the Season last year for her to change her perspective on the dark wizard.

It was forbidden for ladies to play in the match, but Ginny had wanted to. She had played endless games with her brothers back on the Weasley's shabby Burrow Manor. It had rankled throughout her years at Beauxbatons that the sport was forbidden, knowing that she – the equal of any male player and better than many of them – had not been permitted to play. The Season's game makers had decided to add a little spice to the proceedings by making the players masked and thus completely anonymous, unknowingly presenting her with an opportunity to achieve her heart's desire. She had bound up her long, red hair, charmed her voice to achieve a less feminine register, and disguised herself, joining the Gryphons team and playing alongside her brothers Fred and George against the Ashwinders.

Playing chaser had been simply exhilarating. It had been pouring rain, and she had scored goal after goal, flying swiftly through the cool air. One Ashwinder chaser in particular had repeatedly plagued her, tailing and tracking her, until Ginny had gone on the offensive and slammed into him. He had been so aggravated that he completely missed the subsequent penalty shot granted to the Ashwinders.

Afterwards she had ducked out to an empty barn to re-attire herself appropriately and remove her disguises. No sooner than she had uttered _Finite Incantatem_ had the mysterious chaser walked purposefully into the barn.

Ginny had stared at him for several long heartbeats, while he stared back, dark eyes inscrutable through his black mask.

At last he removed it and flung it to the ground. "Ginevra Weasley," he growled.

Ginny merely raised an eyebrow. "That should be _Lady_ Weasley to you, Mr Zabini. This is most inappropriate to invade a lady's private quarters. I must insist you leave."

"Inappropriate, my lady? No more so than disguising oneself as a man to compete in express violation of the rules!."

"I was under the impression that Slytherins were no stranger to bending the rules a time or two." The words popped out of Ginny's mouth before she could consider what a suggestive statement that was. The temperature in the barn seemed to go up by several degrees.

"Indeed. Apparently, as you have so brazenly demonstrated, neither are Gryffindors."

Ginny's chin rose to an icy tilt. She would _not_ take the snake's bait! "That is a low blow, sir. I believe you are simply aggravated that I outperformed you on the Quidditch pitch."

Blaise took two steps towards her. Ginny felt the comforting weight of her wand in a concealed pocket within her dress. If this slimy git tried anything, she would send a swift bat-bogey hex his way.

He continued to advance, eventually standing inappropriately close to her. She noticed for the first time how truly remarkable his eyes were. Deep brown, fringed with long, dark lashes, they gazed into hers with a stormy intensity that she had never beheld before. He said nothing, merely looked back into her eyes. Discreetly reaching into her pocket, she brandished her wand, levelling it at his chest. "Leave me, Mr Zabini. Else, I shall hex you into next Sunday."

Surprisingly, a sardonic smile crossed his face. "I should like to see you try."

"Perhaps we can reach an accord?" His lips were so close. All she had to do was stand on tiptoes and… _Witch, get a hold of yourself!_

"What type of accord are you thinking of?" He made no move for his own wand, though Ginny had no doubt it was concealed on his person much as hers was.

"Leave, and speak of this to no one. I in turn shall not divulge your uncouth intrusion."

A shadow, unreadable, crossed his face. "Very well." He turned on his heel and left the barn, walking back out into the steadily falling rain, leaving Ginny feeling flushed and with her heart beating.

From that inauspicious meeting, their peculiar connection had grown. At each party they crossed paths, bantering and sniping at one another, until one day when they had encountered one another in an empty drawing room in the Lovegood estate.

Ginny had begun as she usually did in their encounters, smartly telling him, "Mr Zabini, really, this again? Surely you are not so ill-mannered that –"

He had cut her off by rapidly approaching her and bringing his lips down to hers as his strong arms pulled her into a tight embrace. It was _thrilling_. He kissed her surprisingly softly for all his ferocity, his lips enticing her to forget her anger and forget everything but the two of them. With each kiss, she grew more breathless, her body tingling and alive in a way it had never been before. She parted her lips and let his tongue slip into her mouth, lightly sucking on his bottom lip, until…

He broke away from her abruptly, striding out of the room without a word. Ginny stood there catching her breath, wondering what had just happened. It was wildly inappropriate and scandalous and wonderful. She had taken a deep breath, quickly tidied her hair and makeup with her wand, and returned to the party. They had stolen more kisses over the next few months, their mutual attraction deep and seemingly insatiable. Ginny had been preparing to ask him to court her openly when her parents had revealed their grand plan for Ginny's future – her future as Lady Ginevra Potter. Blaise had not spoken a word to her since, nor had she sought him out.

Now he stood there, carefully avoiding looking directly at her but, Ginny knew, not missing a single moment. Her dark lover. Her greatest secret. And the true reason that she had absolutely no desire to wed Mr Harry Potter.

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><p>It had been a rather intriguing ball, Hermione had to admit, and not for the quirky ideas espoused by Mr Lovegood. She was eagerly anticipating the opportunity to learn more of the British wizarding society as the Season progressed.<p>

As she and Ginny were shown to their lodging for the evening at estate by a rather vocal house-elf, she took a moment to survey the room. It was opulent, decorated in pale blue and gold in a rather French theme, with a large painting of a mermaid decorating the wall. In the manner of the enchanted portraits of the wizarding world, the mermaid splashed her fins merrily and smiled at the two ladies. The house-elf – Winky – drew back the curtains on the two four-poster beds, and urged the two young misses to rest. Hermione barely heard Ginny's whispered goodnight as her tired head reached the pillow. The last thing to pass through her mind before she slipped into slumber was an open, honest face with tousled red hair, a long nose, and stormy blue eyes, regarding her as he danced in the embrace of another woman.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

**Five-Legged Beast: **This is a Quintaped, which according _to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ is a violent creature found on a remote Scottish Isle.

**Regency Era Manners: **I'm taking liberties with quite a few of the traditional customs and societal norms, particularly with regards to the status and freedoms of females. According to JK Rowling, wizarding society was slightly more progressive than Muggle society (as alluded towards in _Tales of Beedle the Bard_).

**Pairings:** Some of the pairings in this story will be diverging from canon. It is intended to be a romantic drama, a 'what if' in a different time and place. It is ultimately a Romione fanfiction, however!


	3. A Stay At Burrow Manor

Thanks the follows and reviews! :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: A Stay At Burrow Manor<strong>

_**Lovegood Estate, Somerset, November 1813**_

Hermione stretched languorously on the soft feather bed. A swift popping noise sounded, followed by the squeaky voice of Winky inviting her and Miss Ginny to partake in a morning bath, followed by some light refreshment to break their fast before their return journey to Bath Station.

She lingered for a moment, thinking back on the evening that had just passed. Meeting Mr Weasley had stubbornly lodged in her mind. She could not stop thinking of those mesmerising eyes, blue and grey, fringed with dark red lashes, and rather inappropriately watching her closely as he danced about with Miss Brown. _Put him out of your mind, _she told herself firmly. Clearly, Mr Weasley had some sort of understanding with Miss Brown, and Hermione was most certainly not the sort of person to intrude upon another's relationship.

She drew back the heavy blue curtain, letting light flow in. The diminutive elf, clad in a neat little pale blue dress and hat, snapped her fingers causing the dresser and tables lining the walls to obligingly move aside as a pale stone archway materialised. Not for the first time, she wondered at the powerful abilities that non-human magical beings wielded, and at the lack of interest in such power displayed by the wizarding world. Certainly the wave of surprise caused by Minister Stump's new legal designation of such beings indicated that the prejudices of society ran far deeper than the blood status discrimination that she herself had experienced.

Through the archway, two gleaming porcelain tubs could be glimpsed, fragrant steam issuing invitingly from their surfaces. The room's floor was intricately tiled, with a detailed design of that same curious symbol that Hermione had glimpsed adorning Mr Lovegood's neck – the other enigma of the evening to stick in her mind. It was depicted in various shades of yellow, from bright sunshine to a glowing golden hue. The effect was actually quite lovely, Hermione thought, if over-bright. She made a mental note to research the symbol as she and Ginny removed their chemises and entered their respective baths.

The water was heavenly, warm and soothing, and the bowls of dried herbs and flowers that Winky had helpfully placed on small tables beside each witch gave off a wonderful fragrance of the woods when strewn through the bath.

"Ginny," Hermione began curiously, "what is the symbol upon the floor? I have not come across it previously."

Ginny sighed contentedly, addressing her from behind the privacy screen erected between the two tubs. "It is most peculiar that it should show up here of all places, but I believe Mr Lovegood has a certain affinity for the emblem. It is from a children's tale, a story of the three brothers?"

"I am afraid I did not hear that one as a child. Perhaps you can enlighten me?"

Ginny provided a succinct overview of the old children's tale, of the three Peverell brothers who once met Death on a lonely road, challenging the dark entity for its treasures, and of their folly and eventual defeat.

"The symbol represents the three items together – the cloak, the ring, and the wand, do you see?"

"What a fascinating tale! It makes one consider why it is so significant to the Lovegoods that they would inscribe the very emblem of the triad into their home."

Ginny shrugged. "Who knows? Questing for the 'deathly hallows' as they are termed is a not uncommon leisure pastime among wizarding society – much like that muggle nature rambling that you described to me."

Hermione considered there to be a fairly strong distinction between muggles exploring the woods for peculiar flora and fauna, and exploring various locations for magical objects to conquer death, but resolved to undertake some reading on the subject when she returned to her family home in Surrey. She changed conversational tacks, discreetly trying to find out a little more about the tall, red-haired wizard.

"I noticed that Miss Brown appeared quite enamoured of Mr Weasley."

Ginny scoffed. "That is a very diplomatic way of putting it. Miss Lavender is quite the flirt, and always has been. However, she has limited herself to pursing Ron in recent times."

"He does not return her regard?" She asked, keeping her voice oh-so-carefully neutral.

"Are you interested?" She could practically hear the smirk in Ginny's voice.

"Of course not! I am just curious."

"Hmm."

"Really!"

"Well, for your _curiosity_, he is not interested. In fact, he could not take his eyes off of you. Miss Lavender was glaring daggers at you by the night's end, did you not notice?"

Grateful for the privacy screen obscuring her blush, Hermione replied hastily. "No, I did not."

She dressed rather simply, in a white muslin day dress, and left her hair long and loose, with the sides pinned back to prevent its natural inclination to curl from causing her hair to revert to its usual bushy state. As they re-entered the guest quarters, the archway melted away, and the furniture resumed its former position. Hermione gave herself a mental note to give their hosts thanks for the elf's polite and pleasant service, and to please convey her gratitude to Winky. A steaming pot of mint tea, coffee, fresh fruits, and bread and crumpets were carefully arranged on a round white table. Hermione sipped at the tea, relishing the warm, refreshing flavour.

Ginny devoured her own repast, claiming to feel rather famished. Knowing from their school days that Ginny tended to overindulge – in everything – when stressed, Hermione wondered what had her dear friend feeling so distressed. Knowing that Ginny's temper seldom stayed quiet for long, Hermione refrained from making any overt enquiries, trusting that Ginny would expound upon the issue in her own time. However, she kept her topics of discussion as harmless and polite as Hermione did, and did not divulge the source of her antagonism as they finalised their breakfast and made their way back to the carriages.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Burrow Manor, Ottery St Catchpole, November 1813<strong>_

It was much later in the day when Hermione and Ginny returned to Burrow Manor, the Weasley home. Hermione was excited – after much discussion with Lord and Lady Weasley, her parents had agreed to let her stay at the manor, no doubt in the hopes that attending the magical Season events with an old and respected family such as the Weasleys would lead to her finding a husband.

Hermione feared that her parents felt an ever increasing distance between them. From the day that a representative from the Wizarding Council had approached the family and informed them that their daughter was not merely 'strange', but a witch, Hermione had leapt into the new world with an enthusiastic and inquisitive mind. It was an opportunity to finally no longer be the "strange" and lonely child she had been, but a scholar and a part of something else. Something wonderful.

With each year that she departed for Beauxbatons, they had grown a little sadder, a little more reserved. Hermione endeavoured wholeheartedly to keep them included in her new world, with constant letters and magical gifts (they had been bemused by the toothflossing stringmints, but loved them nevertheless). In spite of this, they had continued to feel more disconnected with each year.

Mr and Mrs Granger had looked upon her graduation with relief, and had let slip during one dinnertime conversation how glad they were that she was returning to "the real world" at last. They had been supportive, but slightly heartbroken, at hearing of her chosen profession in the magical law field. Subsequently, they suggested that perhaps her social world could be more entrenched in the world of muggles, beginning with her debut. Following this, they had pushed quite strongly for her to find a partner among muggle society, hoping to permanently anchor her in the normal world. If spite of their consistent, but subtle, push throughout all they had respected her wish to choose for herself whether or not to marry, and if so to whom.

Hermione's polite, understated antipathy to their proposed suitors had led to a point where she supposed they would be grateful for her to marry at all, let alone if the husband in question was a wizard. Still, she hoped that they would let the point lie for a time. Whilst she was twenty-one, she longed for independence. Men were simply not attracted to her disingenuous honesty and her thirst for knowledge. She had no desire to be with a partner who merely desired a means of producing heirs.

At last the floo neatly deposited her into a large drawing room. It was an old building, looking slightly run down at the edges, but charming nevertheless. The drawing room was elegant, but with some eccentric touches that Hermione had come to recognise as commonplace in wizarding establishments. Tall windows, with deep purple velvet curtains drawn back to show the rolling green hills and gardens, provided the room with ample natural light. Small figures capered in the garden, resembling overgrown, knobby potatoes.

A tall man with the same bright red hair as Ginny, greeted her formally. His demeanour was rather stiff and proper – a world away from that of his sister. He bowed. "Welcome, Miss Granger, to Burrow Manor. My name is Percy Weasley, and it is a pleasure to have you here in our home."

Hermione smiled graciously and dipped in a curtsey. "Thank you kindly, Lord Percy, for having me here. It is a great pleasure to be able to spend some time with Lady Ginevra, for she is a treasured friend."

"Please, Miss Granger, do not feel the need to stand on – er - ceremony." Hermione hid her smile – Mr Weasley looked like the type of man who would always prefer to stand on ceremony. "My lady mother left instructions that you were to be made most welcome."

A flare of green fire announced Ginny's arrival, and she stepped smartly out of the fireplace, brushing soot away from her shoulders.

"Hello, Percy!" Ginny greeted her older brother cheerfully. "You so should have come to the Lovegood's last night. It was quite hilarious watching poor Ron attempt to dodge Miss Brown's advances."

Percy was clearly scandalised. His ginger eyebrows climbed so high that Hermione feared that they would disappear into his hairline. "Welcome home, sister," he greeted her stiffly. "I am glad you enjoyed the festivities at Lord Lovegood's manor. I shall update you regarding our mother and father's travel once you have comported yourself."

"Oh, don't be silly. I take it Ron returned earlier this morning? We did not see him at the Lovegood's this morning."

"I am afraid Ronald has chosen to stay with Mr Potter until mother and father return. He and Mr Potter left letters for you, which have been placed in your rooms. Hestia will show you there. Hestia!"

With a loud pop, an older witch materialised in front of them. She exclaimed over Ginny and Hermione, and led them up the winding staircase to the guest wing. Ginny then returned to her rooms, promising to show Hermione the gnome-infested rose gardens later in the afternoon.

A loud and familiar meow alerted Hermione to the presence of her dear familiar, Crookshanks. The ginger, bandy-legged half-kneazle had stolen her heart when she first saw him in Diagon Alley. He was getting on a bit in years, his legs bandier than ever, but he remained a faithful companion to her. He sat on her bed, purring loudly at the sight of her. They both jumped at a loud crashing sound from the roof above. "By Circe's wand, Crookshanks, what could that have been?" The kneazle looked unconcerned, curling up on the bed with his bottlebrush tail twitching.

A loud groan accompanied by several more thuds identified the sound as a ghoul. _Oh, yes!_ She remembered Ginny's stories about the manor ghoul who lived in one of the dilapidated towers. She retrieved two books from her chest, and sat in the easy-chair by the window. _Hogwarts: A History_ and _Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Perhaps these would shed some light on that strange symbol.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Quidditch Meadow, Potter Estate, Godric's Hollow<strong>_

_**November 2013**_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"_Protego!"_

The invisible shield sent the beam of red light bouncing away from Ron in a shower of red sparks. Longbottom had grown into a surprisingly formidable wizard, he really had, but he was a long way from matching he and Harry for innate jinx and counter-jinx talent.

Of course, Neville specialised in poisons and antidotes, his inclination towards Herbology almost giving him his Auror specialisation by default. Their training supervisor, a feisty young witch by the name of Venusia Crickerly, had almost driven Neville from the program several times. However, she had come to see what Harry and Ron had so long ago – Neville's quiet demeanour and clumsiness hid a core of deep steel and a bottomless well of courage.

"C'mon, Neville, focus!" Harry watched from the sidelines. "Again!"

Ron started the next round with a rather minor charm, but one that had proved surprisingly useful in disabling opponents in the field. "_Tarantallegra_!"

Neville's shield charm wavered and broke under the charm. Neville immediately began to dance a jig that looked remarkably similar to a highland fling. This did not stop him from levelling his wand at Ron and fired a tickling charm towards the other wizard. "_Rictusempra!_"

Ron's shield charm was a hair too slow, and he began to laugh hysterically as invisible fingers tickled his most sensitive spots. Chuckling, he realised that Neville had struck him but good that time, as there was no quick counter-charm. He aimed again, speaking the curse as clearly as he could over his chortling. "_Levicorpus!"_

His opponent promptly turned upside down, hoisted into the air on one ankle, his free leg futilely attempting to continue dancing in mid-air. Sweat was dripping from Neville's brow. Harry was by this stage howling with laughter watching the two wizards duel.

"Time to finish this, Weasley!" Neville yelled with a grin. "_Accio _devil's snare!"

A crash sounded from the Potter's conservatory, and a small potted plant zoomed into Neville's grasp. He threw it into the air towards Ron and shouted, "_Engorgio!"_

The plant began to swell as it flew towards Ron, green grasping arms reaching out for him, who laughingly responded. "_Lumo… Lumos maxima!"_ A brilliant beam of light erupted from the wand tip, and the plant shrank back into insignificance, sitting innocuously in its pot.

"Gentlemen, I'm going to call this one a draw. _Finite incantatem."_ Harry waved his wand, and the tickling and dancing feet ceased.

Ron clambered to his feet first. "Good show, Longbottom," he said, giving him a hearty clap on the back. Neville grinned under the praise.

"I'm going to get the better of you one of these duels, Weasley," he replied.

"You came bloody close this time." The Potter's house-elf had placed a refreshments table with several jugs of pumpkin juice and freshly squeezed lemonade, which the three men drank with alacrity, the unusually warm autumn weather fuelling their exertions.

They lingered outside, discussing the latest batch of recruits to join the department, the reforms being implemented by Minister Stump, and Neville's recent engagement to Miss Luna Lovegood. Theirs was a match that had practically been decided since their days at Hogwarts, with the unconventional young Ravenclaw casting a wholly different type of spell over him from the day she first entered the Great Hall.

"Enough about me. You're engaged too, Harry, and that just leaves you as the odd man out, Ron," Neville teased.

"Bloody hell, don't you join mother's cause as well!"

"If she was anything at all like Ginny's Beauxbaton's friend from the ball last evening, you would not be so reluctant to tie yourself down, I'm guessing," Harry said slyly.

"Miss Granger? I quite liked her," Neville responded, correctly guessing Harry's insinuation. "She was most amiable, and mentioned some fascinating plants that she had observed in France. Makes me wish I could go to Beauxbaton's and study some of the continental species."

"Ginny never mentioned how beautiful she was."

Harry's expression turned serious at Ron's statement. "You wish to court her, then?"

He had only spoken but briefly to the dark-haired witch, but she had enchanted him. There was a fire lurking beneath the surface of those pretty, dark, golden-bronze eyes, one that he longed to see. "I would certainly like to get to know her better."

"Then you ought to formally reject Lavender. For her sake, as well as your family's. She's a scandal waiting to happen, that girl, and you don't want to lead her down the garden path."

Ron nodded decisively. "Indeed. I'll owl Lavender today, informing her that I do not wish to marry her."

"Then you'll be free to pursue Miss Granger," Neville said.

"Mother and father are hosting a dinner to celebrate their return from Egypt in three nights' hence. I shall try to get around Percy and arrange an opportunity for she and I to speak privately." He had a sneaking suspicion that he would not be so easily done with Lavender, however. The lady did not take rejection well – as evidenced by her dogged pursuit of Ron – and he hoped she would not sabotage his efforts to win Miss Granger.

He would endeavour to be as kind with his rejection as one could be, and hope for her understanding. That did not, however, solve the new issue that had presented itself before him. Discussing the matter with Neville and Harry, he plotted the best manner to charm his way into his lovely witch's heart.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

Reviews, comments, and criticism are appreciated! :)

**Minister for Magic: **During 1813, the MoM was Grogan Stump. According to the Harry Potter Wiki, he was a popular minister, noted for numerous reforms including the creation of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

**Regency Era Meals:** In the regency era, breakfast was typically taken at 10am. There is some really interesting information on dining in Regency England at janeaustensworld. wordpress. com!

**Venusia Crickerly:** Venusia is mentioned on Pottermore as a former Auror and the Minister of Magic from 1903 – 1912. Considering that wizards can live quite longer than muggles, I've assumed for the purposes of this story that she entered the Auror training program quite young, and was over the age of 120 by the time she assumed office as the MoM.

**Wizarding World Peerage: **This story assumes that many of the old pureblood families possessed titles. Considering that JKR noted on Pottermore that a member of the Malfoy family attempted to marry Elizabeth I, this doesn't seem too far-fetched a possibility!


	4. Desperate Measures

Thanks once more for the follows everyone and for the review, **arabellagrace**! :) Warning: this chapter is where the M rating starts to come in… naughty scenes ahead. Scroll down and skip to the end if you do not wish to read - I'll include a short 'previously in...' summary at the start of each new chapter from this point on. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Desperate Measures<strong>

_**Burrow Manor, Ottery St Catchpole, November 1813**_

_Gin,_

_Staying at Harry's until mum and dad return. Couldn't abide Percy's nagging. See you on Sunday. _

_Your brother,_

_Ron_

_Dear Ginny,_

_I've asked Ron to stay at the estate for several nights. Neville is in attendance, and we are taking an opportunity to enjoy some recreational time before returning to work next week._

_I hope that you are well. You looked lovely as always last night. If you should require anything, do not hesitate to send Errol at once._

_Your fiancé,_

_Harry_

Ginny looked at the two letters, rolling her eyes at Ron's short note and then pensively returning the pieces of parchment back into tightly furled scrolls. She had excused herself to retire to her room, ostensibly to review the notes and rest during the hottest part of the day.

Dear Harry's letter said much by its brevity and stiltedness - Merlin, he was as unhappy as she at their parent's perfidy, if too much of a gentleman to say so - and reviewing it firmed her resolution. She would end this farce today.

She waved her cedar-and-unicorn hair wand and summoned her patronus. Thankfully, this was one spell-based method of communication that Bill - due to his curse-breaking experiences - and Ron - due to his Auror training - both had been most insistent that their siblings master.

A tall, shining silver horse emerged from the air. Ginny reached out and stroked the spectral mane fondly. "Go to Blaise. Do not let anyone else see you. Pass on this message: 'Apparate to the Burrow stables in ten minutes. Come alone, and do not inform anyone else of your purpose nor destination. Please.'"

The horse cantered away silently, shimmering and fading as it did so.

Ginny tapped her wand to her head, casting a hasty disillusionment charm. She crept swiftly and silently downstairs, and crept through the kitchen. Old Hestia, dozing lightly on a chair in the corner, did not rouse. Their cook had gone into the village to purchase the weekly household supplies. Percy could be guaranteed upon to be attempting to further his courtship of Miss Penelope Clearwater, and Hermione, bless her, would be deeply entrenched in a book. No one would notice her disappearance for the next few hours.

The noonday sun was warm, shining down on her concealed face. She entered the old barn, casting _muffliato_ and concealment charms around the building's edges.

The old wooden door creaked as Blaise entered, accompanied by the silver patronus. The shining horse dissolved into the air. Ginny disillusioned herself, relishing the opportunity to openly gaze upon him once more without concern. He wore a champagne-coloured waist coat, a crisp white shirt with ivory cravat, and dark, tight breeches. He said nothing, merely looked at her with an insouciance too carefully perfect to be genuine.

Ginny herself wore a simple sky blue day dress, her waist tied with a white scarf. Her head was bare, her long hair left unbound and flowing freely down her back. Her own expression mirrored her internal disquiet. There was no other way. She had to do this…

"Blaise..." She greeted him, unsure where to begin. To her horror, several unbidden tears began to course down her cheeks.

"Lady Weasley," Blaise muttered tightly. "It is most inappropriate for an affianced lady to behave in this manner."

"For pity's sake, let me explain!"

"What is there to explain? You dishonour me and yourself – and the man with whom your affections clearly lie – with such a request. You have five minutes, and then I am leaving."

"It was not my choice!" she cried. "Neither I nor Harry did this. It was decided by our parents in his sixth year, and arranged that we would marry upon my twenty-first birthday."

He raised one eyebrow. "You've made no effort to extricate yourself from this arrangement. These are not the dark ages, madam. You have a choice -" Even as he said it, he knew it for a lie. Pureblood families had a way of imposing their will.

"Don't be foolish. You know as well as I those contracts are nigh unbreakable. God knows, I have tried. Little short of my abandoning my family will permit my escape."

Blaise said nothing for a moment. Then, he began in a softer tone, "Ginevra... Be truthful with me. You truly do not wish to marry Harry Potter?"

Her chin rose to that icy tilt he knew so well, brown eyes locked upon his. "No. When I marry, I wish it to be to a wizard of my choice. And I would choose..." She coloured and dropped her gaze. "That is to say, if circumstances would..."

Blaise approached her with that same purposeful rapidity as he had on that fateful day, and with his fingers tipped her chin up so that her eyes met his. "Whom would you choose?"

"You," she breathed. "Gods above help me, but I would choose you. I care not for our familial opposition, not for anything other than you and I being free to be together openly at last."

He kissed her softly, resting his forehead against hers. "Forgive me for losing faith."

_There is nothing to forgive, _Ginny thought, _for his jealousy and temper echoes my own. Had I witnessed such a spectacle, I surely would have reacted in a similar manner, if not worse. _Her talent with a hasty jinx or hex was known – and justifiably feared – amongst her brothers.

"Can we not break it? Surely Potter has tried," Blaise said, breaking the lull. "I would gladly pay the cost of any such contract."

"No, we cannot. It is not a matter of dowry. And even in such an instance, my family would not willingly relinquish my hand to you. The old suspicions against Zabinis, Malfoys, Greengrasses… they run too strongly."

"I shall consult my solicitor this very afternoon. You are a woman grown, and there must be a way. We can negotiate with your parents." He chuckled darkly. "If I can win you over, my fiery witch, I can surely win your parents to my cause."

"There is another way to break it," she whispered, not looking at him. _Summon your courage, woman. _She drew in a deep breath.

"If I am no longer... Pure... The contract is rendered null and void."

He said nothing, merely kissed each of her tears away. Once he had accomplished this, he trailed still more kisses over her hair, her cheeks, her eyelids. She wanted him… Circe, she needed him. Every light touch of his lips renewed her passion for her forbidden Slytherin suitor as she melted into his embrace. "Oh gods, Blaise…"

"I cannot," he regretfully murmured between each light touch of his lips. "You would be ruined, my love."

"I don't care," she whispered. She twined her hands about his neck and drew his lips to hers. His kiss was soft and gentle at first, her lips soft and parted beneath his. Gradually their passion built, their lips melding, tongues twining together. He captured her moan as he ravished her mouth in a scorching kiss. He broke away from her, and his lips trailed down her neck, over her collarbone to the tops of her breasts, their hard tips visible against the blue fabric of her dress before returning to her lips once more. She pressed against him shamelessly, feeling his hardness pressing against her thigh, and reached for him. They had never crossed this threshold in their previous trysts. Now… _Now I can finally sate my curiosity, _she thought with an internal smirk at her own boldness. She lightly caressed his manhood through his breeches, feeling his staff immediately stiffen further in response to her touch. He groaned.

"Not yet, Ginevra," he told her, gently pushing her hand away. "Please... I can give you this, and no harm will come of it."

He trailed his large hand up her bare leg, under her skirts, reaching through her undergarments to caress her nether regions. She felt warm and wet against his fingers, a tell-tale blush of arousal spreading over her face and décolletage. He intimately stroked her with skilled fingers, circling his thumb around the heart of her desire.

She moaned and closed her eyes as the intense sensations took her. "Blaise... Oh gods, please don't stop!"

The delicious pressure on her most sensitive spot grew until she finally burst in a climax more passionate than anything she had experienced from her own touches. She cried his name as she found her bliss.

Panting, she reached for him again. "No, Ginny," he said, his forehead resting against hers. "You do not have to. Just this is enough."

Her plan had failed, her engagement to Harry stood, but she still felt strangely… content… as she stood there in his arms in the barn. The warm scent of the hay, the golden rays of sunshine through the windows, the dust motes shining suspended in the air, and the sight of her dark Slytherin lover standing there beside her. This was a moment she would hold in her heart forever.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Brown Residence, London City<strong>_

Lavender sat in her room, sobbing. When Ron's cheerful, tiny owl had appeared at her window, hooting loudly, she had almost shouted with triumph. Finally, a message!

She had hastily detached the letter from the madly fluttering owl. She then gave it an owl treat, and it hooted as though inordinately pleased with itself as the small, fluffy bird flitted away. As she unfurled the parchment scroll, her heart had sunk to its lowest ebb.

_Dear Miss Brown,_

_My lady, I am writing with regards to our relationship. Whilst I hold you in highest esteem, I cannot continue to permit any misunderstandings between us, and must clarify my feelings on the matter that has been brought to my attention._

_I do not wish to marry you. Please understand, this has naught to do with your own charms, which are many. I am simply searching for..._

Lavender had not bothered to finish the letter. Tears blurring her vision, she then hurled the dreadful thing into the fireplace, taking bitter satisfaction in seeing the hateful words consumed by the flames.

She threw herself upon her bed and sobbed passionately into her pillow. At last when the storm of weeping had passed, she pondered the situation. All had been going splendidly until the ball last night. When that muggleborn bitch had caught Ron's attention.

She was to be the Lady Lavender Weasley! No matter than his family possessed no wealth. Her dowry would have been generous enough to support the both of them, and Ron was amiable enough that she could be the true mistress of her marital domain. No plain, foreign-trained, know-it-all was going to take him away from her. A devious plan was forming in her mind. The Season had only just begun, and there were ample opportunities to correct the situation in which she had found herself.

She _accio_'d some parchment and ink onto her writing table, penning a brief missive. She summoned her father's owl and attached the letter to its leg, watching with a vindictive smile and reddened eyes as the tawny bird flew off into the grey sky. Hopefully, the owl would return soon… along with her pale serpent. Then that man-stealing cow would be dealt with as she deserved.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes<strong>

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! This was first proper attempt at writing some serious smutty goodness… what did you think?

I promise that there will be some romance on the way for our favourite couple in the very near future. I've finally finished the outline for this story, and it is a slow burn indeed on the path to a happily-ever-after for the youngest Lord Weasley and Miss Granger. :)

**Ginny's Patronus:** The horse patronus is depicted in the Order of the Phoenix movie, and is confirmed by the Harry Potter Wiki as belonging to Ginny.

**Ginny's Wand:** The specifics of Ginny's wand are never confirmed in canon, so I have used the combination theorised on this useful wand website: _www. angelfire rebellion2/slytherinchamber/wands .html_


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